


Cats Don't Dance

by Edgelord (lostlikeme)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlikeme/pseuds/Edgelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For man to truly understand rejection, he must first be ignored by a cat." </p><p>Heracles finds that courting his veterinarian Dr. Kiku Honda isn't much different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catowynchan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Catowynchan).



It’s smaller than Heracles imagined it, less clinical and the smell of bleach is almost entirely covered up by the candle burning idly at the receptionist’s desk. A bit unorthodox, lacking in cute magazines, but Heracles is nonetheless enjoying the feng shui of the way the space in the room is laid out. The veterinarian is smaller than Heracles imagined him too, five and half feet at best. Heracles feels like a towering beanpole in comparison.

As Heracles studies his nameplate something he has struggled with for more than two weeks suddenly becomes an easy decision to make.

“Congratulations, you are my new veterinarian.”

Heracles outstretches his hand; Dr. Honda looks less than enthused.

“I see,” he says, eying it dubiously. “What have I won?”

They shake hands and Heracles allows his to linger. “I have sixteen cats, what do you think?”

The first noticeable shift of expression on Dr. Honda's face reveals nothing more than mild bemusement. 

“That’s over the legal limit,” Dr. Honda says at last.

Heracles squeezes his hand before pulling away and leaving him with a wink. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”


	2. Chapter 2

The examination room is clean and bright, sparsely decorated with knick-knacks just cute enough to make Heracles forget that countless animals have been euthanized on the same stainless steel tabletop. Great men have met their fates in far less humane conditions. War trenches and starvation come to mind. Here might not be so bad: to release his last breath with a warm, familiar hand stroking his fur, to feel his muscles relaxing as Hello Kitty blurs in his vision like a cuter, pinker Hermes.

“Must be nice,” Heracles says absentmindedly, swaying his fingers under the sunlight filtering in through the window.

Dr. Honda raises an eyebrow as he enters the room with a cat carrier. “Excuse me?” 

“To die here,” Heracles explains. A few moments pass in silence to which Heracles realizes he is to blame. 

“I don’t mean to offend you. You’re very good with him,” Heracles says, watching the way his cat solicits attention from Dr. Honda. “You project a strong aura of calmness. I imagine it relaxes almost as many owners as it does their pets.”

The cat preens as it kneads the towel on the table, purring loudly under the affections from his veterinarian. His tail flicks upwards, rigid, and he begins a mighty rumpus. Dr. Honda pulls his hand away and to his credit manages to look less than forty percent scandalized. Heracles laughs and Dr. Honda follows in suit, albeit strained.

“This is why I call him Eros,” Heracles says as he closes the carrier. 

Dr. Honda tries to cover his smile with a professional sounding cough. “I see, like the Greek God.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I see that you like Hello Kitty,” Heracles says conversationally. He smooths a fingertip over the bow on the small two inch figurine. “It’s very cute.”

Dr. Honda cycles through six shades of scarlet before speaking. “That was a gift from a client,” he explains.

Heracles smiles slowly and eyes a second figure on Dr. Honda’s desk. Dr. Honda shuffles him from the room before he can go over the steps to administering medication to Heracles cat a third time. 

“That was...also from a client,” Dr. Honda assures him on the way out.


	4. Chapter 4

“Aw come on,” Heracles peers over Dr. Honda’s shoulder, catching his first glimpse of Dr. Honda’s first name. “Kiku?” he tries out the consonants and they pull together nicely. “Can I call you Kiku?”

Kiku shakes his head. “No.”

Heracles nods, trying to mask his disappointment behind a wide grin. “Okay,” he says, rubbing his hands together, almost nervous. “Dr. Honda then.” 

Dr. Honda remains unreactive, even when Heracles brandishes his phone and skips to the photograph he took last week of Mittens grooming Shadow. It’s the second cutest picture he’s taken of his cats this month. 

“Very cute,” Dr. Honda acknowledges with a small inclination of his head and a half hidden smile. 

Heracles wants to see the rest of it. The shine in his eyes and sharp features behind the curve of his hair. 

“Come on,” Heracles goads. “I showed you mine so you show me yours.”

The lewd undertones sail completely over the language barrier and Heracles ducks his head in shame. Dr. Honda chooses this time to show him an image of an immaculately manicured bonsai tree. 

“My apartment building does not allow pets,” Kiku explains.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s strange, how familiar the small examination room at Lucky Cat Veterinary has become. Heracles would love to spend his days here, napping by the attractive receptionist during the workday and pawing at Dr. Honda for attention during lunch hour. It isn’t too far from their current reality. 

“Are you married, Dr. Honda?” Heracles asks as Kiku finishes the last of his lunch.

“Of course,” Kiku says without missing a beat. “To my work.”

They share a short laugh and Heracles realizes that he isn’t sure whether or not Kiku is joking. Rest and relaxation are just as important as determination and hard work. It isn’t difficult to tell that Kiku is imbalanced. Aquarius can be a stubborn mule at times and it’s easy to imagine a younger Kiku Honda refusing to relax all throughout medical school. Has Kiku ever taken a vacation at all?

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but….” Heracles wonders if he’s prepared to hear the answer. “How many naps do you usually take in a week?”

Kiku laughs for the first time and Heracles finds the sound immediately pleasant and soothing. A sound he’d like to hear more often. 

“Zero, Mr. Karpouzi,” Kiku says with a smile.

As good as his chances, then.


	6. Chapter 6

The day passes around Heracles like a dream. He spends much of it floating in and out of consciousness, sleeping restlessly between snack binges and bathroom detours. The day is half over when Heracles realizes that his condition has probably worsened enough to warrant an appointment. He struggles for his cellphone before reaching for the rotary, speed dial, number two.

Their phone conversations have evolved over the past few weeks. No more--Hello, Lucky Cat Veterinary, Attractive Receptionist speaking--instead, Heracles bypasses the pleasantries with the help of Dr. Kiku Honda’s personal extension. Heracles has never felt so relieved to hear that familiar huff of impatience.

“What is it this time, Mr. Karpouzi?” Kiku asks.

Heracles can imagine Kiku hunched over his desk, eyebrows knitted in concentration. His nostrils occasionally flaring as he tongues the inside of his cheek. 

“I’ve been thinking I may have to stop in,” Heracles announces, wiping his sweaty palms against his naked thighs.

Nudity is rarely an unwelcome sensation for Heracles, but his state of undress is turning what would otherwise be considered innocuous fantasies into something bordering on pornographic. 

“Let’s see if I can help over the phone,” Kiku suggests instead. “I am sure you are a very busy man Mr. Karpouzi. I would hate to disrupt your schedule.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Heracles assures him. “One of the few advantages to being a bachelor is not having to worry over a schedule.”

Heracles stretches with a yawn and creak. “At least not on Tuesdays,” Heracles adds. He isn’t a total deadbeat, after all.

“Today is Wednesday, Mr. Karpouzi,” Kiku corrects him.

“Of course it is,” Heracles says with an unseen nod of agreement. 

Kiku clears his throat. “What did you say the symptoms were?”

“Right, sorry!” Heracles tries to remember the purpose of the phone call. “So far, vomiting, nausea, diarrhea…”

Kiku inhales sharply. “This sounds serious. Vomiting and diarrhea are likely to lead to dehydration.”

Who knew Dr. Honda was the emotional type? Up until today Heracles was having difficulty understanding where he stood with Dr. Kiku Honda. Was he still just a transaction? Their relationship no more complex than a service Heracles is paying for?

“I’ve been drinking a lot of water,” Heracles says proudly. “But still not as much as I should,” he admits.

For a few moments, Kiku is genuinely speechless. And then, “Excuse me?”

“I haven’t been feeling well,” Heracles says again. “So I thought I should stop by.”

A heavy sigh of relief makes Heracles feel a little less than cared for. 

“I am a veterinarian, not a doctor,” Kiku admonishes him. 

“I thought you might have some advice,” Heracles says with a pout.

“Unless you suddenly sprout ears in a tail, I have nothing to offer you.”

Heracles frowns at the idea, waiting for the familiar click of the line going dead. Instead the silence stretches, and Heracles begins to wonder if he’s only been listening to his own labored breathing. Kiku’s voice startles him when he finally speaks.

“Stay in bed, get some rest,” Kiku tells him.


	7. Chapter 7

Heracles sets down the plastic cat carrier by the door. He eyes his umbrella on the floor and sighs as his eyes flicker to Kiku, burrowing himself inside a cave of coats and hoods. Heracles shifts his weight from one foot to the other before he can’t take it anymore.

“At least let me walk you to your your car,” Heracles offers.

Kiku holds ever fast to his own obstinacy. “I appreciate your concern, but I can see myself out.”

They share a glance towards the rain spattered window. Thunder cracks beside lightening like the sky is a shattered glass. Heracles wonders how long Kiku is going to hedge his offers. 

“Rather me then the rain.”

A shrug is his only assent. Heracles ignores Kiku’s overblown indignity, opting to hold the umbrella open over the two of them to shield them from the storm.


	8. Chapter 8

Personal calls from Dr. Kiku Honda are rare, unsolicited ones are even rarer. Heracles’ fingers jitter with anticipation as he reaches for the phone. He holds his breath and let’s it ring once more, just for good measure. Afraid to miss the call, Heracles answers the phone with a rush of air and enthusiasm.

“Hello, Dr. Honda!”

There is a brief pause in which Heracles can only assume Kiku is digesting his enthusiasm. 

“Mr. Karpouzi, will you be arriving late to your scheduled three o’clock appointment?”

“Today?” Heracles struggles with his mobile calendar, still stuck between the sheets of his bed. “It is still Wednesday, right?”

“Yes it is. We have you down for a three o’clock with Snickers?”

Heracles startles at the touch of his own hand against the skin of his stomach. Talking to his veterinarian in the nude is not a habit Heracles can imagine Kiku approving under any circumstances. Heracles wonders if a vacation to an onsen is completely out of the question. 

“Sorry, I don’t think I have an appointment today,” Heracles says quickly. Anything to distract himself from the lascivious thoughts clouding his mind. 

“I see,” Kiku falls silent. “I apologize for the interruption.”

The downturn in his tone becomes impossible to ignore. “Although Dizzy did vomit up a questionable hairball this morning--”

“Sorry to trouble you.”


	9. Chapter 9

Two days before Christmas, Heracles receives a small orange envelope in the mail. The card inside is glossy cardstock with a picture of an unenthused black cat wearing a festive party hat. It’s the kind of gimmicky card you’d see at your local drugstore. In fact, Heracles might have looked at this particular card when he was filling his cat’s insulin prescription last week. 

There is a thin package behind the card labeled “Cat Grass” with instructions on the back for growing. Heracles grins; he has always fancied himself a bit of a do-it-yourself kind of man. The backside of the card reads “Happy Birthday Eros!” and just below it, a small note in equally legible print: for help with the nausea. The bottom is signed with a familiar, barely decipherable, slanted scrawl: Kiku Honda. 

Heracles calls him immediately.


	10. Chapter 10

“I’ve told you before Heracles, I do not make house calls,” Kiku says, shuffling papers into a filing cabinet. 

Heracles taps on the countertop as the receptionist bids him goodbye. He watches Kiku go through the night’s closing procedures with little interest. Wheedling never gets him very far with Kiku and he seems immune to dissuasion. All Heracles has left is honesty, bribery, and blind hope.

“Not as a house call this time,” Heracles says, almost losing his will. “A date.”

Kiku loses his grip on the edge of the desk and knocks over a display of velcro cat collars. “A date?” he asks blankly, struggling to shepherd the collars back into the plastic bin.

Heracles nods. “We can go anywhere you want.”

“I’m flattered, but--”

Heracles denounces Kiku’s shock with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry. I can wait until you have a day off.”

Kiku trips over his words in a wave of denial. “You must be mistaken. I value your patronage but I am not a--” Kiku stutters as he spills the collars a second time. “Not a homosexual, Mr. Karpouzi,” Kiku says at last, voice lowered to a scandalous whisper.

Heracles shrugs, unfazed. “Neither am I,” he offers with a grin. “But all cats look gray in the dark.”

Kiku touches his shoulder but doesn't make eye contact. They opt to keep the lights off.


End file.
